


I Really Like Your Shirt

by greeneyescurlyfries (orphan_account)



Category: Parks and Recreation, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, Multi, allison is a sunshine child, hfkjhsfsfkhsd i'm in love with erica and isaac, iDK WHAT HAPPENED IT WAS A BIRTHDAY PRESENT AND THEN IT WAS THIS, isaac is jean-ralphio, past scott/matt, peter is a strong sassy independent black woman, peter/isaac crackship idk, purely for the parks and rec canon tho, uhhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-31
Updated: 2013-01-31
Packaged: 2017-11-27 17:11:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/664430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/greeneyescurlyfries
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Teen Wolf/Parks and Rec crossover</p><p>Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Really Like Your Shirt

**Author's Note:**

> ok ok i know
> 
> i have a cast list in case you're not familiar with parks and rec  
> but i'll put it in the end notes so i don't have any spoilers
> 
> anyway  
> this was supposed to be a birthday present for my darling mattie  
> and then it turned into a monster and i had to make it multi-chaptered  
> so  
> here we are  
> if you've never seen parks and rec  
> i'm sorry  
> i'm so sorry  
> this will make like 3% sense to you
> 
> uhh  
> and  
> this starts in episode 23 of season 2, the master pan, when Ben and Leslie first meet. i deviate from parks and rec canon from there, just because it fits better in the plotline. i'm not doing anything crazy, never fear, but things will be tweaked to make all the ships and characters fit better.  
> title is the first thing leslie ever said to ben awwwwwww

 

 

···

 

"As I said, Stiles, there will be some pretty big changes around the Parks department, won't there?" Joan smirks at Stiles and then at the camera.  
"Uh, well, Joan, there will be a few changes, but nothing huge will be happening. Most things will be staying the same."  
"But what _is_ it exactly that's changing?"  
Stiles smiles faintly and breathes heavily, prepping for a dive. "We'll be introducing a new team of financial and city management to help get our budget and efficiency on track."  
"So what you're saying is that you're in debt?" ...and _there's_ the classic Joan.  
"No, Joan, we're not in _debt_ , it's just that times are tough right now, as we all know, and everyone could use a little cinch in the budget." Stiles smiles awkwardly and shifts as Joan leans back and skeptically says, "It looks like that's all the time we have for today, folks, but tune in next week to find out all the ways Stiles Stilinski has gotten the city in this horrible debt crisis, among other things."  
Stiles blusters and leans toward the panning camera. "Okay, well, we're not actually in debt and even if we were, _Joan_ , it-"  
"Yeah, well, sorry, Stiles, that's all the time we have for today," Joan smirks malevolently and pushes half-heartedly at Stiles' face.  
The last shot is of Stiles' exasperatedly optimistic expression.

An excited squeal erupts from Joan as Erica saunters smugly onto the set; Stiles had brought Joan's favorite Parks department worker along as damage control. Erica unsubtly flatters Joan and Joan unsubtly fishes for more compliments in their weird balance of freaky companionship as Stiles sighs and gathers his things to leave. 

“Joan, have you ever looked up the word _stunning_ in the dictionary?” Joan shakes her head eagerly. “It's just as well, all that's in there is a picture of you!”

Joan shrieks delightedly and slaps Erica's arm, shaking her head and saying, “Oh, Erica, you don't...”

Stiles rolls his eyes and tunes them out.

 

···

 

“People are gonna get fired aren't they? I only have two more years till my pension, I can't-”

“No one's gonna get fired, Jackson-”Finstock starts.

A decrepit old man with dark, wrinkled skin pokes his head through the door, his beard swaying and eyes bulging in his skinny head.

“Hello?”

Stiles whips around and yells, “AH! DEATH!”

“Divorce court.”

Finstock points fearfully toward the ceiling. “Fourth floor.”

The man nods and leaves, toting his tattooed soon-to-be-ex-wife with him. A smiling young woman with dark brown hair and obscenely cute dimples replaces Death in the threshold. Following her is a very Tall, Dark, and Handsome with a scowl and a line etched between his _very_ impressive eyebrows. 

“Hi! I'm Allison Argent, and, uh, this is Derek Hale, we're from Indianapolis?” she smiles hopefully at Finstock and Stiles.

“Yes...” Finstock shifts uneasily and glances sidelong at Stiles.

Stiles smiles confidently and offers Allison his hand. “I'm Stiles Stilinski-” Derek grunts inexplicably and Stiles throws a confused glance his way- “and this is Bobby Finstock.”

Allison grasps Stiles' hands warmly and looks into his eyes. “Stiles. Stilinski.” She leans and tries to grab at Finstock's hands, but he tucks them into his pockets stoically. “Bobby. Finstock.”

Stiles, encouraged, smiles at Finstock and says to Allison, “Would you like a tour of the building? We have-”

“There is literally nothing in the _world_ I would like better than to take a tour of the Parks and Recreation Department of Pawnee with you, Stiles Stilinski, and you, Bobby Finstock. Derek?” She cocks her head in his direction.

“That's not a good idea right now.” Derek's voice is lighter than Stiles expects.

“Okay! Basically what we're doing here is just a little tinkering. We're going to fix some stuff and get you right back on track where you belong! Uh, Derek will be looking at the budget with you, and I will be back later! See you guys!”

And with that, Allison trots out of the room cheerily, leaving Jackson, Danny the Intern, Finstock, and Stiles alone with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Inordinately Grumpy.

“Let's get this over with.”

···

 

“I really like your shirt-”

“Where is the most waste in the department?”

Stiles backs off and bites his lip, glances at Finstock, and promptly starts, 

“None-”

-Just as Finstock declares loudly, “Where do I start?”

There's an awkward pause before Finstock starts eagerly, “What exactly will you be cutting? And how much of it? And can I watch you do it while eating pork cracklins?”

Derek looks at him fearfully before turning back to his notes. “Okay, let's start with personell. What can you tell me about... Jackson Whittemore?”

Stiles smiles and says, “Universally adored. He is one of the best people on the planet, there would be a _revolt_ if you fired him,” and glares at Finstock as he shakes his head shiftily. 

Derek frowns at him microscopically and says “Okay, you need to understand that in order to keep this government afloat, we have to cut the budget of every department by forty or fifty percent.”

“Well, Allison said that you'd just be doing a little tinkering.”

“Allison said that because she is a delusional optimist, and _tinkering_ sounds a whole lot better than _gut it with a machete.”_

Finstock _giggles._

Stiles stares at Derek disbelievingly. “You're a jerk. These are real people, with real lives, in a real building, with real feelings-”

“-This building has feelings?-”

“-Maybe. There's a lot of history in this town. How can you be so blasé about all this?”

“Well, maybe because I didn't cause these problems, Mr. Stilinski, your government did.”

Stiles' mouth pinches.

Derek's _eyebrows_ stare at him. 

He stands abruptly and gathers his things. “I'll get what I need from the spreadsheets.”

Stiles glares angrily at the table, offended by its cavalier attitude. 

Finstock shifts and says quietly, “What's a not-gay way to ask him to go camping with me?”

Stiles stares at him.

“Finstock, why are you so _creepy_?”

···

 

Erica fist-bumps Isaac as he saunters into the Snakehole Lounge, Danny's birthday balloons bobbing half-heartedly.

“Isaaaaac!”

“What's up, Swizzle-E- hold on.” Isaac sways toward Danny. “Damn, boy, who you trying to impress-” 

“Move away.”

Isaac nods, biting his lip. 

Peter stops as he approaches Danny. “Isaac.”

“Peter.”

A nod of reluctant acceptance from Isaac, and Peter purses his lips and moves haughtily past him toward Danny.

“Birthday shots for the birthday boy!” Peter cries.

“Yeah, now that I'm legal I've kind of lost interest. Whatever.”

Peter raises his eyebrows and shrugs- “Suit yourself.”- and downs both shots in one go, moving into the dance crowd. Danny stares after him fearfully and admiringly.

 

···

 

“So I guess all our plans are on hold?” Scott frowns sadly at Stiles, thinking of their plans for a new park. Stiles nods helplessly.

“There nothing else they can cut?”

“Trust me, I tried.”

Stiles sighs and pokes at a dry breadstick. “Hey, where were you when I called earlier?”

Scott rolls his eyes. “Talking with Mark..”

“Again?” Stiles hisses through his teeth.

“It's been a rough week.”

Stiles nods and sighs. “Do you want to get super drunk?” 

Scott nods eagerly. “Yes. Yes, I do.”

“Great. You go get the beer and I will try not to bite anyone in a fit of justified rage.”

 

···

 

Danny scans the crowd with disinterest until his eyes land on Matt. Matt smiles and shuffles his way through the crowd.

“Hey, Danny. Uh, can I buy you- hold on, let me-” he pulls out and rifles through his wallet- “Yeah, I can swing it, can I buy you a drink?”

Danny looks at Matt through his eyelashes. “Yeah. Whiskey.”

Matt laughs and says, “Wow, you're not messing around tonight, are you?”

“No. I'm not.” Danny's dimples disappear as he stares intently at Matt.

As Matt waits for Danny's whiskey, a very drunk Scott yells at him cheerily from where he's draped over the counter. 

“Matttttttttt! Matt Daehler! Daehler Matt!”

“Hey, Scott...” Matt says uncertainly.

“Tell me, Mathimus, was I a good boyfruninad?”

Matt smiles uncomfortably at Scott, “Yeah, you were great. The best, even!”

Scott smiles fondly and claps a hand too hard on Matt's shoulder. “Well, then... Hey, buddy, help me out here.” He struggles out of his sweater, tangling his arms and screeching a little bit. Matt tugs on the sleeves and set the sweater down hesitantly on the counter, patting it awkwardly. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Danny's pinched look and furrowed eyebrows. 

 

···

 

“Isaac!”

“Yes, yes, I'm right here, what is it, baby?”

“Buy me a drink.”

“Yes, okay, yeah, anything for you.”

Danny settles vindictively back into the couch, the armrest poking him in the back. Isaac returns quickly with a small fruity drink with an umbrella sticking out of the rim. Danny give him a look of disbelief and takes it long-sufferingly.

 

 

···

 

“Ugh, Derek the Jerk is here.”

“What? Who where? Who are?”

“The one- the one walking. The one with the face. Coming over here. His face is coming over here.”

Scott turns and messes with Stiles' collar. “Be super professional, okay? You are are are are are a professional. Basketball player, maybe? Does Derek play basketball? I think Matt played basketball. Hi, Derek!”

Derek eyes Scott suspiciously. “Look, I think we got off on the wrong foot, I just wanted to-”

“Yeah, well, save your breath, Jerkrek, because you are a Jerk. Jerkrek. Derek. Jerk. And I don't like jerks. Okay? Or Jerkreks, for that matter. And I especially don't like Jerkreks who- fire all my friends. Or kill them with machetes. And plus, I just asked everyone in the room, and nobody wants you here-”

“-That must've taken a long time-”

“-Yeah, it did, and yeah. So you can make your hot Jerkrek face walk away. And not come back. Jerkrek. Rek.”

Derek looks mildly confused. “Okay, then. Sorry to have wasted your time,” and walks away.

Scott leans over to Stiles with tears blooming in his eyes. “Stiles. That was so. Professional. I am-” he sniffles “-I am so proud of you.”

Stiles smiles benevolently at Scott. “Thank you, Scott, I couldn't have done it without you.”

Scott cries into his beer for thirty minutes.

 

···

Erica tries desperately to get laid, moving from one table to the next, Isaac trailing loudly behind her.

Baseball player after businessman after banker after illegal immigrant lets her buy him a drink and turns her down. She glares at Isaac's curly hair and reaches out to squish it down angrily. He makes a whiny noise and steals someone's drink.

 

···

 

At one point, Stiles finds himself dancing with a spazzing Allison, who is chirping “This place is outstanding!” like the absolute ray of sunshine she is.

Wait, when did Allison get here?

···

 

An hour later finds Scott making out a little frantically with Allison. Stiles looks fondly at the two of them. They're suited to one another. Scott may be kind of dumb, but Stiles just thinks the sun shines out of his cute little ass. Plus he's a great nurse. Allison pulls away a little bit when Scott almost grabs at her butt, but she smiles and leans her forehead against his. “Let's call you a cab.”

Stiles like Allison, he decides.

 

···

 

The next morning, Scott shows up in Stiles' office with limp hair and a blank memory.

“Stiles.”

“Ow, not so loud.”

“Yeah, sorry, but I think I may have made out with someone last night, and I don't know who,” Scott says, trying and failing to be careful of Stiles' headache. 

“What? How do you know?”

“I just woke up and I had the feeling that I very definitely-”

Jackson pokes his head into Stiles' office, looking at Scott and saying, “Hey, Scott, crazy night last night, hey?”

Scott looks, panicked, at Stiles. “Uh.. yeah?”

Stiles feels a sympathetic rush of overwhelming terror for Scott.

Jackson smiles knowingly at him. “I left at eleven fifteen and you were still going hard.” He nods awkwardly.

Scott lets out a sigh of relief heavily and sinks down in his seat. “Yeah, it was... yeah.”

···

 

Erica returns to the bar at lunch to close her tab, sighing at the stools and the tall bartender. 

“I need to close my tab. Erica Reyes?”

“Yeah... You had 47 drinks last night?”

“Uh.”

He smirks at her sympathetically.

Erica squirms and sighs. “I invited like 20 guys out, bought drinks for all of them, and left alone.”

“Isn't the guy supposed to be buying the drink?”

She narrows her eyes and straightens her spine. “Aren't bartenders supposed to be culturally aware and not total 19th century chauvinists?”

He smiles and bites his lip. “Fair enough. But I think if you really wanted to get laid maybe hit on one person instead of the entire male population of Pawnee and surrounding counties.”

Erica sighs again. “Maybe I was hoping for a 21-way?”

“Which would be awesome.”

“But I've only got twelve breasts and there would be rampant disappointment.”

He laughs and finishes up with her tab.

“Thanks,” she says, and turns to leave, but swivels on her heels and squints at the bartender.

“Hey, um... Do you want to get a drink tomorrow night?”

He licks his lips. “Does it have to be here?”

“No.”

“Then sure. Uh, I'm Boyd, let me give you my number.”

Erica smiles to herself.

 

···

 

“Stiles, he holds our fate in his hands like a tiny bird. You yelled at him twice. You need to apologize.”

“He deserved it! He's cold, and unfeeling, and he deserved everything I said to him!”

“Stiles, believe me, I want this government slashed in the gut with a machete, but I can't have you getting fired, because that would mean that I would have to do stuff!”

Finstock glances at the spittle on the desk. “Go. Apologize.”

Stiles' mouth pinches. “I don't have anything to apologize for! I expressed myself, loudly, forcefully... drunkenly... and I spit on him a little- okay, I'll go apologize.”

Finstock sighs loudly and leans back in his chair. 

 

···

 

When Stiles walks into Allison's temporary office, Allison is downing three pills and measuring out some vile-looking medicinal oil.

“Stiles! Welcome, welcome, welcome! What brings you here so early?”

Stiles grimaces softly. “I'm, uh. I'm actually here to speak to Derek.”

“Great! I'm going to listen to some rainforest sounds and do some sit-ups!”

And Allison drops to the floor and immediately begins... sitting up... with a vibrant smile on her face. Stiles feels sick. He sits down hesitantly at Derek's desk, eyeing him with caution.

“Uh... I just wanted to apologize.”

“Don't worry about it,” Derek says stiffly.

“No, I was out of line... twice. And I got worked up because you represent a threat to my department-”

“-Your city council and your mayor are the threats to your department, we didn't do anything.”

“You know what, I don't appreciate your callous attitude-”

“-Really?”

“Yeah, really, and just because you're detached and uninvolved in these people's live, doesn't mean you get to act like an ass.”

Derek sighs quietly and looks at Stiles for an uncomfortable moment, then smiles minutely.

“Do you want to get a beer?”

“-It's like ten-thirty in the morning-”

“You look like you could use a beer, c'mon.”

Allison gives them a chipper wave from the floor.

 

···

 

 

“I'm sorry I yelled at you, but I really don't think you understand. Have you ever been part of a government body before?”

Derek chuffs. “Uh, yeah...”

Stiles starts to smile. “What?”

“Uh... Well. When I was eighteen, I ran for mayor of my town. And... I won. But the thing about eighteen year olds is, they're really stupid. So I basically ended up running the city into the ground. I spent all of our money- _all of it_ \- on building an ice rink called IceTown.”

“You did not.”

“I did. I played _Whoomp, There It Is_ at my swearing-in ceremony. And I ended up getting impeached after two months. But you know what the worst part was? My parents _grounded_ me.”

Stiles laughs crazily for a minute. 

Derek laughs with him for a moment, then says, “And now I'm balancing budgets so I can show people I'm responsible so I can run for office again someday and not be laughed at. I mean, you want to run for office someday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You have to be able to make decisions like this, Stiles, you have to be harsh. No one's going to elect you to anything if you don't show that you're a responsible grown-up.”

“Yeah,” Stiles says resignedly. 

When Derek moves to pay the bill, Stiles lays a hand on his respectfully. 

“Oh, no, Mr. Mayor, let me.” He pulls out his debit card and throws it onto the counter. “Whoomp! There it is!”

 

···

 

Peter sits at his desk filing stuff when Erica trots in, grinning stupidly with Isaac trailing dejectedly behind her. He glances longingly at Peter's desk. Peter raises an eyebrow and Isaac squeaks, following Erica into her office. 

Peter glances across the room at Danny, who's sitting sadly at his desk, staring at a floor tile like it's kicked his puppy.

Finstock is dozing in his office.

Apparently if you want something done right, you've gotta do it yourself. Peter sighs.

“Hey. What's wrong with you?”

Danny hums noncommittally. 

“Helloooo. Is it that Daehler boy? He stand you up?”

Danny looks at him sharply. “No. He didn't- he didn't.”

“Then what?” Peter sighs again and pinches the bridge of his nose. _Youths_.

“Nothing. He didn't do anything and that's the problem. He's an asshole.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “You and I both know that that boy thinks the sun shines outta your skinny ass. Suck it up and go _talk to him_.”

Danny raises an eyebrow. “You're not very good at pep talks.”

“Hey, take what you can get. If you were a Hale, I would've thrown a condom at your head and to you to _use him, abuse him, and lose him.”_

Danny grimaces mildly in wonder.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Cast:  
> Stiles: Leslie Knope  
> Scott: Ann Perkins  
> Allison: Chris Traeger  
> Derek: Ben Wyatt  
> Erica: Tom Haverford  
> Isaac: Jean-Ralphio  
> Peter: Donna beCAUSE I LOVE PETER  
> Boyd: Lucy  
> Jackson: Gary Gergich  
> Lydia: Gale Gergich  
> Finstock: Ron Fucking Swanson  
> Danny: April Ludgate  
> Matt: Andy Dwyer
> 
> ALSO: Derek was my original Ron, with Kate Argent as a far less deadly Tammy 2, but I just couldn't find a way to ship Leslie/Ron, even though I know a lot of people do. And Derek was also a suitable- albeit far musclier and stubblier and broodier- Ben, so I guess the closest we have to a Kate Argent is Shauna or maybe a vaguely threatening past as a failed boy mayor.


End file.
